


Enter Maravilla

by nahco3



Category: Football RPF, Marvel 616
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahco3/pseuds/nahco3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scene: A dirty concrete cell, windowless. Our hero, Captain America, is unconscious, chained to a chair. His costume is torn, and bruises are beginning to form on his face. His shield is nowhere in sight. A slight dark haired man in black leather is pacing around the cell, his hands behind his back. He is apparently unarmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enter Maravilla

**Author's Note:**

> written for a pulp fiction ficathon, so the quality of this probably isn't too high. posted in 2008.

The scene: A dirty concrete cell, windowless. Our hero, Captain America, is unconscious, chained to a chair. His costume is torn, and bruises are beginning to form on his face. His shield is nowhere in sight. A slight dark haired man in black leather is pacing around the cell, his hands behind his back. He is apparently unarmed.

Cap regains consciousness, blinks dully. The other man stands in front of his, black eyes slightly amused, lip curled. Our hero struggles against his chains, unsuccessfully. He glares up at the other man.

Cap’s last memory: The ninjas drop from the rooftops, silently. Steve barely deflects a katana blow, blue sparks skittering off his shield. Tony yells something, Steve doesn’t remember what, and Steve punches someone in the gut. He throws his shield; it bounces off the walls of the alleyway. Two ninjas go down. Tony gets the armor on and the ninjas fade back into the night before he can fire his repulsors. Steve’s smile reflects off Tony’s breastplate in the streetlamp light. The poison dart hits the back of his neck. He collapses.

“Who are you?” Cap asks, still flexing his muscles against the chains. “What do you want?”

The man smiles, humorlessly, and strokes his goatee. “You can call me Maravilla. As for what I want,” Maravilla bites his lip, and his black eyes soften, slightly, but he doesn’t continue. The room is filled with a pulsating silence.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Europe: David Silva sits alone, in a grey room. His one window lets in some feeble sunlight. Through it he can hear the shouts of the soldiers, drilling endlessly. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t pray, he simply waits, with a faith more absolute than religion.

Maravilla paces in front of Captain America, slowly, his eyes narrowed in calculation. Cap watches, his shoulders tense, anticipating a blow that never comes.

Abruptly, Maravilla begins speaking again. “However, my employer” (here, his voice drips with contempt) “is interested conquering the world.” He shrugs, dismissively. “He thinks that the way to go about this is to force Tony Stark to build him an arsenal of unprecedented size.”

“Tony would never do that,” Cap says, flatly, daring the other man to challenge him.

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Maravilla says, still pacing. A knife appears in Maravilla’s hands, flashing dull silver in the florescent light, “I hope for both our sakes he will reconsider.”

“Threats? Why don’t you fight me like a man?” Captain America sits, head held high and proud. “You scared?”

Maravilla laughs, suddenly and without mirth. “No, Steve Rogers. If I were tied to that chair and you were here, watching me, you would have been dead five minutes ago.”

“Then why don’t you kill me?”

“Collateral. Your boyfriend delivers the goods or else -” Maravilla throws the knife in the air and catches it without looking - “ that motherfucker will tell me to kill you.” He turns away from Steve and spits. “Cobarde,” he mutters.

Steve’s eyes are cold. “Then you should tell him to have me killed now. The Avengers don’t negotiate with supervillains.”

Maravilla shrugs, and returns to pacing. “So you say.”

Two months earlier, Valencia, Spain: The window shatters into a thousand pieces. Maravilla reaches for his gun on the side table and curses – it’s gone. Silva cowers against the wall, the covers pulled up to his chin. A ninja runs towards the bed, then falls, a shard of glass lodged in his throat. Maravilla kneels at the foot of the bed, eyes flashing. Another ninja falls, then a third. Bullets wiz by, one catches Maravilla in the shoulder. Someone grabs his throat and his vision swims. He reaches up with his good arm and breaks the fingers, one by one. He falls to the floor.

Silva screams “David!” but by the time David Villa has turned around, Silva is gone. Lying on the floor, mixed with the broken glass is a card. You work for me now, it reads. It’s signed Luis Aragones.

Time doesn’t seem to pass in the concrete cell. Eventually, Maravilla sits against the wall. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, but his knife rests next to him, and every time Cap shifts in his chair, Maravilla’s hand twitches toward the handle.

Steve and David both start when the speaker in the corner blares to life with a burst of static. “The mission is compromised,” a voice says. “Terminate Captain American immediately.” Maravilla stands, quickly, as walks over to the speaker.

“And if I do, you’ll set him free?” he asks, his voice soft.

Laughter, distorted by static, crackles from the speaker. “You’re a useful man, Villa. I wouldn’t want to lose your services so soon. Or Silva’s services. He really is quite….lovely.”

Maravilla hold the knife so tightly his knuckles turn white. “We had a deal.”

The voice over the speaker sounds bored. “Kill him and we can discuss this later.” The speaker turns off.

Maravilla walks over to Captain America. “This shouldn’t hurt much,” he says.

“Wait,” Cap looks up at Maravilla. “Let me go and I promise you the Avengers will help you get this Silva back.”

Maravilla looks at him and snorts. “It can’t be done. I tried.”

“Sometimes a team makes all the difference,” Steve says, very earnest. “We can save him.”

Maravilla stands very still, a distant look in his black eyes. “Fine,” he says. “But if he gets hurt, I will make you beg me to kill you.” His voice is perfectly flat. “And I get to kill Aragones.”

Captain American nods. “Could you let me out, now?”

Maravilla reaches down the cuts the chains with his knife. “Let’s go,” he says, shortly. “They have your shield at the guard station.”

Cap rises and stretches. He places his hand on Maravilla’s slim shoulder. “We will get him out. I promise.” His sincere blue eyes meet Maravilla’s inscrutable black ones.

David shrugs off the touch and knocks on the door, tapping out an intricate code. A guard opens it, then collapses, knife lodged in his chest. Maravilla bends down to retrieve his knife, then they step over the body and into the hallway.


End file.
